


Cleansed

by dean_and_cas_at_the_sea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel Comforts Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, First Kiss, Guilt, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Nightmares, Post-Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Season/Series 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:21:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dean_and_cas_at_the_sea/pseuds/dean_and_cas_at_the_sea
Summary: Dean has a nightmare about him still bearing the Mark of Cain. When he wakes, Cas is there and comforts him.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 134





	Cleansed

**Author's Note:**

> This is a oneshot that came to mind in the middle of the night two weeks ago. I experimented a little regarding my writing style, but I kinda like how the fic turned out? It is angsty – but the ending is hopeful and soft. I am a gentle soul, so I can’t help it. It’s set somewhere in the beginning of season 11, after episode 3 (The Bad Seed). There are references to the time when Dean had the MoC.

Again, the cold held Dean captive. Both the cold from the outside and the cold from his broken innermost being. Images of horror before his eyes. One fist. One. Two. Three. Four. Five punches. Red. Dark red. Blood everywhere. A feeling of dizziness. He wanted to vomit. To flee. Away. Had to keep going. He couldn’t move. Fists. Blows, blows again and again. The figure in front of him. The face. So familiar. Other hands. Touching him, caressing his cheek. Then loneliness. Silence. Fear. 

He was pulled into a tunnel that twisted and turned. The walls flickered like broken screens. Scenes of people – people he knew? Kevin. Benny. Bobby. Charlie. Dead. Sammy – Cas. Dean averted his eyes, wanting to see other images, anything but those mesmerizing blue eyes that haunted him everywhere, that stirred his whole existence. 

From a nearby room, Dean heard the distant notes of loud music, and he thought he noticed someone laughing. When was the last time he had laughed? Laughed lustily? He couldn’t remember, it must have been a very long time ago. Yet he imagined it so often. In quiet hours, when he had nothing but himself and his thoughts. 

Dean continued walking through the corridors of this dimly lit, run-down building, smelling rotten. Decay. The building was past its prime. Irreparable, no longer restored to its former state. Exactly like Dean himself. 

He had been happy, in the past. When he and Sammy would tease each other, play pranks on each other. When he’d been with Cas, talking to him, because Cas simply made him laugh with his dorky ways. Adorable, yes, he knew former Dean had seen him that way. 

Dean shook his head, he couldn’t lose sight of the goal. A voice spoke to him, just in his head. Keep going, it said. You need it. 

If only he could escape, if only he could remove the Mark. But he had no choice. Better himself than someone else. Better himself than Sammy or Cas. He had to play the game, had to continue to serve as the puppet the Mark had made him into. 

There was no going back. The burden was a part of himself, was more Dean than the rest of him. He squeezed his eyes shut in pain, held his breath, and surrendered to the inevitable. The rage.

He reached the room, like every day. The bathroom. In the mirror he looked into the most evil eyes he knew and couldn’t help but look back with hatred.

He hated the person he had become, the person the Mark made him. The person he would become. No longer truly human, maybe not a demon again, but just a shell of his normal self. Another scream rose in his throat, wanting to get out, to make itself known.

And yet Dean remained silent, pursed his lips. He kept silent, concentrating only on his breathing, which was getting faster by the second. Then he felt the unbearable agony, the hatred and released the scream. He screamed and couldn’t stop. Never stop. 

The cold laughter inside him grew stronger as he fought unconsciousness. His veins froze in a matter of seconds before getting filled with venom.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t control the rage. He looked at the monsters before him, shot ghosts as if in a frenzy, stabbed demons with the Angel Blade, decapitated vampire after vampire, and he enjoyed the feeling. The strength, the power.

At last, Cas appeared in front of him – as always – and again, he laid on the floor in front of Dean. Dean punched him right in the face, again and again and again, and couldn’t stop. And Cas didn’t fight back, he didn’t fight back. He said something – what? 

But Dean didn’t hear him, only felt the rush and smelled the blood. He saw Cas‘s face and something stirred inside him, and in the midst of his anger, tears and sweat ran down his cheeks. Hastily, he wiped his face, tasting all his mistakes on his tongue. Salt and iron. He screamed.

"Dean!“  
Dean startled, and immediately sat upright in bed. Another nightmare. Damn it all, would he ever be able to sleep soundly again? His entire torso was wet, his clothes drenched, and his breath came only rattling. It took him a moment to get his bearings. 

Dean looked at his nightstand – had he left the light on? His head hurt like hell. It was as if someone had hit him on the skull with a hammer, or more to the point, left him behind under falling rocks. Fucking nightmares. 

He turned his head, almost having a heart attack. Cas was standing in the middle of the room, without the trench coat, but still in his shirt, the tie bound a little looser than usual. 

Dean’s heartbeat quickened, and for a moment he forgot the anger he had felt so acutely in the dream. Cas looked at him, as intensely and curiously as ever, but Dean also recognized something else in his expression, in his whole attitude: caution. Great, now he was already scaring an Angel of the Lord. Dean had come a long way in his miserable life. 

"Cas, what the hell! Are you trying to kill me?“ Dean immediately snapped at him to cover his turmoil.  
"No, I am not,“ said the familiar gravelly voice which immediately went through his spine as usual. "I think I have done more than enough on that accord lately,“ Cas added. Dean huffed at that remark because they were ignoring the elephant in the room. 

He remembered everything. His horrible behavior. Castiel’s face. His face over and over again. The moment when he had given up. Sam, convincing him that he had to keep fighting, that they would make it. The Darkness. Crap. 

Dean had beaten up Cas horribly, almost to death, and Cas was still here, still cared about him. Why? Why would he stay? Dean had always wanted him to stay, but now he felt like a case of guardianship, someone who needed to be observed. 

But no, Cas didn’t see him this way, right? He had told him often enough with his words and actions and eyes that he needed Dean as well. 

Unbelievable. Dean growled, because he definitely did not want to think about Cas who was under the spell. He vividly remembered the situation in the warehouse, had willingly let the beating take place. His just punishment, so to speak. No, what he didn’t want to remember was his own helplessness, and the fact Cas had looked fucking miserable. 

"Dude, I didn’t mean that in a literal sense. Dammit.“ Dean ruffled his hair and pinched the bridge of his nose. He uttered a few more curses, hoping that would calm his trembling limbs. To no avail, of course. 

"Would you sit down already? You’re making me nervous.“ He didn’t mention the fact Cas kept making him nervous, and not just edgy, but in a way that made his entire body tingle. And holy shit, Cas wasn’t allowed to notice. He just couldn’t.

Cas sighed, obviously frustrated with Dean as usual, and grabbed one of the chairs, placing it right next to Dean’s half of the bed. Still the incredible rage throbbed inside Dean, wanting to empower him, but it wasn’t as bad as usual, he felt calmer. Kinda.

"So, you’re into stalking people at night now?“ Dean asked in a ridiculous attempt at a joke. Cas, who definitely seemed to get his sarcasm judging by his facial expression, just shook his head. He opened his mouth as if to say something, closed it again. Then he looked at Dean, eyeing him as if he wanted to take away all his secrets and embrace them, until his eyes softened. 

Gentleness? Dean definitely didn’t deserve to be looked at with any kind of goodwill, let alone affection - certainly not by Cas. Still Cas said nothing, just sat there, as stoic as he was used to, but his face, his face was not that of the emotionless angel he had known then. 

His face was so full of emotion, so pure, that Dean had to swallow. Now, Cas tilted his head in confusion and looked at him questioningly. What the hell was he supposed to answer to this unspoken question? Nothing was good, all was fucked up, and Dean was a mess.

"You are a mess, in a way, yes, but who isn’t? We all have things, responsibilities which keep our minds occupied.“ Great. Now he even said this pathetic stuff out loud. Why didn’t he have a filter in Cas’s presence? It terrified him. Dean always felt so raw with Cas, so much like himself. 

And he knew it wasn’t right because he wasn’t supposed to share his innermost fears and thoughts and memories and even the, well, yearning. That was not the person who he was allowed to be. Rather, he was full of rage and the self-doubts, and he also excelled at snarky remarks and repressing his true feelings. Terrific qualities for his non-existent resume. 

Cas laughed quietly, and Dean made an angry sound in the back of his throat. Was Dean amusing him? 

That was surprising, to say the least, and it hurt. It hurt more than a knife cutting in his skin. He could do very well without someone mocking him at this very moment, thank you very much. 

"Dean,“ Cas started to speak again, and the tenderness in his voice gave Dean the goosebumps of the decade. Fuck. "You were screaming, or rather yelling. Very loudly. Like a wild bear. And I thought you were in pain, hence I came to look after you.“ 

Cas paused, leaning a little closer to him, again not minding any personal space. Dean liked it, yes, right now he longed, no, he ached for this. Hearing Cas’s breath, seeing his eyes so close, the fucking cheekbones and the defined jawline. The lips. Yes, his lips looked fucking sensual, and Dean loved staring at them. So what? 

No one would ever find out, hopefully. Right now, he didn’t care about anything other than Cas, he just wanted to forget the nightmare. This horror which was also his life. 

"And I was right. Dean, I worry about you. A lot.“ Cas bit his frigging lips way too sexily for Dean’s taste, but then Dean hissed because Cas‘s lips started trembling. What the fuck was going on? Cas was not supposed to feel miserable, Dean was the failure. Not Cas. "I’m fine, Cas. The Mark’s gone. It’s all we wanted, right?“

"Yes, I am glad you are better.“ Cas smiled at him, and Dean’s chest clenched. His body felt so warm. Like he imagined he would feel on a summer day at the beach. Oh, no, no, no. This felt so good, too good. Meanwhile, Cas had cleared his throat. 

"Howsoever, I am aware you feel guilt because the Darkness is released, terrorizing the earth now. You feel like you failed nonetheless.“

"You gotta be kidding me. Are you trying to lighten my mood or attempting to make me feel even more like a piece of shit?“ Dean barked and kicked his blanket away. Immediately, he felt cold, but he didn’t care either, because he was still sweating, his damn T-shirt sticking to his torso. 

His goosebumps didn't belong to the good ones, and he felt dirty even though he had already showered three times in the last few hours. 

He was so angry at himself, and he felt pure desire when he looked at Cas, and yes, he also felt something entirely different, something deep, meaningful. He didn’t know the feeling from his own experience, "the“ with capital letters, but he understood what it meant, by now. And he wanted Cas, he wanted him so much that he would’ve taken the Mark again if that meant he could have Cas. 

And then he felt angry once more because why the hell would his mind create those sickening thoughts? Dean was a lost cause. 

Every day he tried to make it right. He tried to hunt monsters, save people. He tried to protect the ones he loved. He tried to appear like a ray of sunshine when he felt like shit. He tried to give brave speeches when deep down he only wanted to sob and vanish. He tried to make everything better, instead, he failed. Over and over he had failed in his attempts to make the world a better place. 

Also, Dean had failed at being the man his dad had expected him to be – and of course, Dean knew it was wrong, the way dad had treated them, the abuse and neglect, but he still felt like a loser often enough. Dean had failed to protect Sammy on so many occasions. Fuck. 

And he had failed to keep Cas, to give him reasons to stay instead of abandoning them – him. Had failed to show him he needed him here, that Dean- Well. In fact, Dean had failed to tell him how he really felt about him. That he didn’t see him as a brother at all. As his best friend, sure, but that wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. 

All this anger was too much, he couldn’t bear it anymore. He didn’t want it. Suddenly, his rage, all the doubts and his self-hatred made him impulsive. When Cas continued staring at him, Dean simply acted. He grabbed the stupid tie, pulled Cas close. Close to Dean’s heart where he belonged. 

And then he kissed Cas, hard and with despair. He sucked at his lips, licked them, and then Cas kissed him back, and holy shit. He drowned. 

Panicking, Dean pulled back, feeling awful and pathetic out of a sudden, but still happy because he finally did it. He had kissed Cas, and he wanted to do it again, preferably forever, but he was so damn afraid. What had he been thinking? Stupid, so stupid, he thought. No, he couldn’t wait for a reaction, didn’t want to hear the rejection, and so he rambled on. 

"Sorry, man. That’s not- I’m fucking sorry, all right?“ 

Dean sniffled, and due to the awesome luck he always had, now, the frigging tears returned he had wanted to avoid at all costs. The tears ran down his cheeks. Salt, again he tasted salt. A few seconds later he was sobbing, howling his head off, wanting only to cry and run away. He was so weak. 

"You don’t need to be,“ Cas finally retorted. His voice had sounded so sincere, so kind, that it made Dean dizzy. He knew that Cas hadn’t just been talking about his recent freak-out and the damn kiss, but about everything. 

"You told me I was under a spell. Yes, I have been, but you, you had the Mark on you which is much more powerful. And yet, you have resisted it so well. You are so strong and brave and you care so much even when you have burdens like this one, and I admire this about you.“ 

During his words, Cas had placed his hand on Dean’s left shoulder, the place where the handprint used to be, now stroking it, tenderly. Then, Cas stroked his other arm until his fingers reached his forearm. Cas caressed the exact fucking spot where the Mark had been, he touched it with so much tenderness Dean could not create a single coherent thought anymore – and Dean felt so raw. 

"Cas,“ he murmured, and didn’t know what to say, was dumbstruck. Saying his name was the only thing that seemed right, made sense in his stirred up brain. 

Simultaneously, he sensed so much, and he had to close his eyes because he thought he might faint due to overwhelming emotions otherwise. Both arms tingled, his neck tingled, and most importantly, his lips prickled because they wanted to taste this ridiculous, dorky, wonderful man again. So badly. And his heart screamed and laughed and yearned. 

Dean took a deep breath, still having his eyes closed, still tasting so much salt because the tears kept running and running down his cheeks until they touched his lips.  
"Can you-“ He stopped himself. "The bed. Can you- Fuck. Cas. I- I can’t breathe.“ 

More tears, always the tears. And the self-hatred. He wanted to punch something. Not a monster oder person like he used to with the Mark, but a wall seemed appropriate, or yeah, maybe some kind of dick. But not Cas, never Cas again. 

He wanted to run, wanted to put his head underwater to scream for a few seconds, so nobody would hear him. To feel free. At the same time, Dean wanted to wrap his arms around his body, to stop himself from falling apart. 

Instead, he felt arms, Castiel’s arms wrapping around his upper body, and Dean sank into the embrace. Still only sensing, hearing, smelling, but feeling so damn much. "Cas,“ he breathed again, pressing himself closer to the angel. "Cas.“ He mumbled his name over and over, repeated it like a mantra, like he sometimes did in his prayers when Cas was gone for such a long time his yearning self could not bear it anymore. "Amazing angel. You’re. Cas. Save- preserving my self,“ he mumbled in a delirium of joy. 

After a couple of minutes, Dean finally opened his eyes again, wanting to look at Cas. He needed to see his eyes, needed to tell him something – anything. 

He broke away from Cas, tried to gain control again, straightened up, tightened his shoulders, stretched his back. 

"Dean,“ Cas whispered hoarsely, and his voice made Dean look up, caused him to watch his face intensely. The familiar features calmed Dean, in a way he had never dared to hope for. A question was written all over Cas’s face, something he didn’t say out loud. What was it?

"I will not leave you,“ Cas said. "Never. I couldn’t,“ he added.

"That’s- thank you,“ Dean replied. "I gotta tell you, man. This here-“ He awkwardly pointed back and forth between them.  
"The stuff was not supposed to happen like this.“ He rolled his eyes, because yes, he excelled at communication again. Definitely. 

"What exactly?“ Cas asked as bluntly as ever. "Me finding you after a nightmare? You being vulnerable in my presence? Us kissing? Us embracing each other so desperately like we sat on the sinking Titanic?“ Dean raised his eyebrows at Cas, simply because he didn’t know what to make of him.

Dean coughed because, wow, Cas really knew how to make everything even more embarrassing. Peachy, just peachy.  
"A bit of everything I suppose?“ Dean remarked after an eternity, not sure how to respond. 

"I disagree,“ Cas said, and then he fucking winked at him. This guy was so off limits for everyone – except for Dean. 

Cas was so right for him. Good. Cas understood him, he got him and this life, Dean didn’t understand how or why Cas tried to grasp him in the first place – but it was the truth. Maybe having gripped his soul a.k.a. the profound bond thing was responsible for this as well. At this thought, the corners of his mouth turned up. 

"Of course you do,“ Dean said, smirking at Cas. Just a little, but it felt terrific. 

Cas smiled again, so sweetly, with so much adoration. He smiled and smiled until Dean also grinned. Cas cradled his cheeks then, softly though his hands were a bit rough, and he said "I thoroughly disagree, Dean“. 

And then Cas pressed his lips to his. It was a chaste of a kiss, the softest touch Dean had ever experienced, and yet more intense and overwhelming than every other damn thing he’d ever witnessed. He tasted Cas, so delicious, and he tasted salt again, but this time the taste cleansed him, liberated him of his guilt and the other bad stuff. He wanted to taste more salt, but in particular he wanted more Cas. 

Lightly, he moved his lips against Cas‘s, and they kissed and kissed, and the nightmare flew away, back to the run-down building. No more blood, no more anger, no more violence, no more tears. Just salt and contentment and peace. Only Cas. 

They pulled apart, only smiling, staring again, because yeah, that was still their thing, apparently, even or especially after all those years.

Cas breathed, "I’ll watch over you“, and Dean didn’t huff or bark at him or wince or make a joke. 

Instead, he nodded. With a steady voice he said, "You do that.“

And Cas did. Whenever Cas stayed with Dean in the bunker or in a shitty motel room over the next weeks – he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think :)
> 
> I will also post the first chapter of a longer fic this week. :)


End file.
